Rewind: Retry
by Brishen
Summary: Abandoned, up for adoption. You’ve all read the stories about Naruto going back in time and changing the way he acts, becoming super cool or ‘The Genius’. Well… what if the way he acts now IS the change? What if originally he was something like Gaara was?


**Author note:** Okay, so this story is unfinished and is never going to be finished, at least not by me. I'm putting this up here so that others can look at it and maybe someone will take it and do something with it, so it's up for adoption, just if you do pick it up, tell me, I'd like to see it finished.

**Summery: **You've all read the stories about Naruto going back in time and changing the way he acts, becoming super cool or 'The Genius'. Well… what if the way he acts now IS the change? What if originally he was something like Gaara was?

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The last Hyuuga stood in front of the shoddily made marker, never very stable and now crumbling with age, that was the only tribute to the death of the one who was the strongest Hyuuga in recorded history. There had been no time to make a sturdier marker, let alone have a proper burial. No time even for tears; just a Katon jutsu and stray piece of half-burnt wood with a hastily carved name at the place where he fell. Long ago his death would have meant a full funeral and his name carved into the memorial stone as with all shinobi fallen in the line of duty. Now there was no memorial stone, just one crumbling marker among many scattered throughout and around the ruins of the once mighty Village Hidden in the Leaves and the names of the dead carved into hearts of those who had survived. Hinata sighed as she traced the name once more, _Hyuuga Neji_. For her part in his father's death he had hated her until the day he died, but she had still loved him. She remembered when they had been so close, more like siblings then cousins. Before.

A sound from behind her alerted her that she was no longer alone, but she did not flinch, did not tense or try to run. She had known the danger of coming here. It would not have made a difference anyway; no able shinobi would be heard if they did not want to be, and the person behind her was many things, a liar, a traitor and a murderer, yes, but never weak or unskilled. Turning around, Hinata took in the sight of the man before her. Blood red hair cropped close and spiking up every which way, rustling gently in the wind; skin the colour of apple blossoms, white with just a hint of pink, pale from all his waking hours spent in the night or in shadow. His clothing was an unrelenting black, black pants and tank top over a black wire-mesh fishnet shirt, and black fighting bandages wrapped around his ankles, calves, wrists and forearms. Black fingerless gloves, black metal-and-leather belt fitted with pouches for various equipment, black weapons holsters on each leg and black sandals. All topped off with a black metal mask covering the lower half of his face that allowed him to breathe under water and filtered the air, blocking out airborne toxins. Out of all of that, what stood out the most about him was not his hair or his skin or his clothes but rather his eyes; eyes that he himself had made by melding four other dojutsus, including Sharingan in Byakagan. The irises where huge, blocking out most of where white would normally be, and coloured pure black, the pupils where also huge and shaped like a nine-pointed star, each point just touching the outer rim of the iris and a brilliant red like fresh blood. Hinata tilted her head to the side slightly, that was new. The last time she saw him the sclera of his eye had still been white, now it was dark blue...

"His hatred made him weak."

His voice was raspy and hoarse from disuse, how long had it been, she wondered, since he had spoken to another living being.

"It doesn't matter any more." She replied, "that hatred is gone now."

A silence.

"I didn't mean for it to turn out like this."

She looked up at him, standing among the crumbling grave markers, silhouetted against the charred buildings and shattered Hokage mountain and remembered this same man, a boy then and with different eyes, standing in the forest at the Chuunin exam. She had seen it then, the incredible devastating agony buried beneath layer upon layer of anger and hatred, and she had done nothing. People could claim that he was a murderer, a traitor and a demon all they wanted, but they where the ones who made him into those things. "I know."

"I just wanted to tell you, they can come back. I won't haunt this place any more." He began making a long line of seals. "There's too much pain here for me and every one else. I'm going to try again. Goodbye Hinata-chan." With that, the seals where finished and, with a huge influx of Chakra, the one person who had single handedly destroyed the shinobi nations and sent the survivors scattered to the wind vanished, with the last Hyuuga and ninth Hokage, Hyuuga Hinata, as his only witness, and only mourner.

"Goodbye… Naruto-kun."

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Naruto automatically stifled a loud cry as pain ripped though his stomach, reminding him of the time one of the villagers had run him through with a red-hot poker when he was six. _What..._

"I'm so sorry baby, Naruto." Baby-Naruto looked up at the ragged voice and saw the Yondaime staring down at him and crying. "I'm so sorry it had to be you, I'm so sorry it hurt, and I'm so, so sorry I won't be there to help you." Baby-Naruto could tell that the man in front of him was dieing. _The sealing of the Kyuubi..._ "I'm so sorry… I love you Naruto, my son, I love you, please know that. I'll always love you."

Hearing those words, spoken from the heart, words he had never heard spoken to him before, and realizing that no matter what, someone, at some point, had **loved** him... for the first time in over forty years, he smiled, just for this dieing man, his father. _For you... I'll protect what you died for. _


End file.
